


Reassurances

by iwaizumemes (skytramp)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 05:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/iwaizumemes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's late, on a school night, and even with all the stress, it somehow doesn't occur to Akaashi to ignore a call from Bokuto, who is away at University.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reassurances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kastron (ishilde)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Kastron+%28ishilde%29).



> THIS IS A HASTILY WRITTEN BUT WELL LOVED FIC FOR THE LOVEVLY AMAZING BISHOP, HAPPY BIRTHDAY (in my timezone for another 6 hours)

Akaashi splashed water on his face again. He ignored how it ran down his neck and into his shirt, instead paying attention to the way the color drained from his cheeks. He hadn't noticed just how red they'd been before, until he saw their normal color.

He’d spent the last hour staring at his laptop screen, scrolling through the admissions page of every university he’d applied to, checking and re-checking that his grades were adequate. He was nervous that somehow, he would be stuck without a university to attend. There was one page that he stayed on longer than others, lingering on the mediocre “requirements” tab. He remembered the essay, simple and to the point, and how easy the entrance exam had seemed. 

When asked, he couldn’t tell people that _that_ school was his top pick. He had no logical reason that it should be. It had a volleyball team, though Akaashi wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to keep playing, despite his skill, but otherwise the school wasn’t notable. It was small, with surprisingly few interesting programs of study other than the one he favored, and Akaashi had probably passed the entrance exam with flying colors. 

There was precisely one reason why that school was his top pick, and that reason, judging by the buzzing in his pocket, was the boy calling him at midnight on a Wednesday. 

“Bokuto-san.” He answered, wiping the water from his face with a hand towel. 

“Hey, Akaashi. What’s up?” His voice sounded far away, farther than the two hour train ride would suggest. Akaashi knew that it was always more than a social call when Bokuto called this late, it just had been a coincidence that he already was on Akaashi’s mind. 

“It’s late. I was just getting ready for bed.” That was true, but he also didn’t think he’d be getting any sleep tonight, not with the exam results due out in the morning. 

“Oh, well, okay…” 

That didn’t sound good. Akaashi left the bathroom and flopped back on his bed before answering. 

“Bokuto-san, do you have something you want to talk about?” He knew it wouldn’t be easy, Bokuto always called when he wanted to talk about something, but if it was serious, he rarely would bring it up without prodding. 

“No. If you’re going to bed, it’s fine. Have a good night!” He tried to sound cheerful, and with every sentence the dread in Akaashi’s stomach grew. 

“I’m not going to bed. Tell me.” 

“It’s nothing, I said, I’m fine, just wanted to say hi.” 

“Tell me.” Akaashi knew, he felt like he’d always known, that getting Bokuto to speak when he was upset was a balancing act. Keeping him cheerful but honest, open but not anxious. It felt like walking a tightrope of emotion. 

It must have done the trick, because Bokuto took a breath that Akaashi could hear was slightly shaky. “Okay, it’s just university.” He said the word like it was a death sentence. “It’s not what I expected.” 

“What do you mean, is it the schoolwork?” Akaashi sat up, afraid that if he laid in bed he might fall asleep. Bokuto had been at his University almost a year now. They talked usually once or twice a week. This wasn't the first time Bokuto had mentioned University problems, but usually they were more joking, more superficial than the tremor in his voice suggested. 

“No, that part’s fine. It’s just different. The team is different, I don’t have friends here," he made a frustrated noise, "maybe I just miss you guys.” 

“We miss you too, Bokuto-san. Fukurodani volleyball isn’t the same without you.” It was a stock answer, one he’d been telling Bokuto nearly every time they spoke since he left for university, but it was no less true. As their captain Akaashi had gotten them through the Tokyo preliminaries and into the national tournament, but they hadn’t lasted long. They needed their ace. 

Bokuto didn’t talk for a few seconds, and Akaashi hoped he was smiling in that goofy way of his: the way he smiled whenever Akaashi said something nice to him. 

“University exam results should come out tomorrow.” Akaashi said, unable to keep his own train of thought in his head anymore. 

Bokuto took the opportunity for a change of subject and pounced on it. "Really?! Where'd you apply?" 

Akaashi listed the universities, leaving Bokuto's own until last. It was a short list, less than ten schools, but considering he knew which one he actually wanted, it felt like he'd wasted his time applying to so many. 

"Wait, why'd you apply here?" Bokuto sounded amazed, awed even, which wasn't an unusual sound for him, but it was usually saved for particularly large platters of meat, really well done art, or powerful volleyball spikes. It wasn't often that Bokuto sounded in awe for something about Akaashi. 

"They have the archaeology program I was interested in, also volleyball." It was true, though the sport itself hadn't exactly been his reasoning, that reason was still something he didn't want to say out loud. 

"Wait, if you come here for volleyball, can you toss for me again?" Bokuto's voice was quieter, and Akaashi laid back down on his back in bed. 

"If I make the team." 

"You'll make the team!" He said it as if there was no doubt, and, even humbly, Akaashi almost had to agree. Going to nationals all three years of high school did something for a player's reputation. "You'll get into one of those better schools though, maybe you can play volleyball there! Maybe we could... play against each other?" He said the words like he had voiced the idea as soon as he thought of it, but disliked it after all. 

"I don't really want to go to the other schools." There it was. He hadn't told his parents, his classmates, or even the school counselor, but if he could tell anyone it would be Bokuto, he just couldn't tell him why. 

"Why? You're smart, Akaashi, haven't you been in college prep classes since first year? You tutored _me_ and I was a year ahead of you! Why would you come here?" 

He knew he shouldn't have teased it, he shouldn't have given Bokuto an idea that he wasn't willing to expand on. It wasn't fair, and he didn't like to lie to anyone, let alone his friends, but he just wasn't ready to say it. He couldn't just say he would follow Bokuto anywhere, and that a University two hours from Tokyo was the least of his ambitions. 

"I don't know. That program is really good, and I like the idea of knowing someone already at the school." That was close, closer than the other options he'd considered. It tasted less like a lie on his tongue. 

"That would be awesome." He meant it. Akaashi could tell that he meant every word. He rolled on his side, cradling the phone between his ear and his pillow. 

"The team really does miss you, Bokuto-san." 

"Sounds like you're saying _you_ miss me, Akaashi." Bokuto laughed, loud and far too close to his phone, and the sound cracked before it reached Akaashi's ears. 

"Maybe." He admitted. It was easy, to let the words that were true slip out, and he did it from time to time, counting on Bokuto's obliviousness to miss his true feelings. 

"The team really isn't the same without me. I saw you at the national tournament. You're still good, but I wished I could be out there playing with you guys again." Akaashi breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Bokuto had taken him at his word, and deftly ignored any further feelings. Confessions were hard when you never could decide if you actually wanted to say them. 

"I hope they'll be fine without both of us. Fukurodani is strong, they'll continue to be strong, I'm sure." 

They both were quiet for a few seconds, and Akaashi readjusted the pillow between his head and shoulder. He could hear Bokuto breathing and it sounded comforting. 

"It's getting late." Akaashi said, finally. He hadn't checked the time, but he was getting tired, his anxiety about test results having dissipated sometime in the beginning of their conversation. He knew it was after midnight, though, and he had school in the morning, they both did. 

"Yeah, you're right." Bokuto agreed, but made no attempt to say goodnight. 

"Did you have something else you wanted to talk about?" 

"No, but..." His voice trailed off and Akaashi was sure that if lip biting made a sound he would have been able to hear it. 

"What is it?" He asked.

"Can we stay on the phone? I know you we don't have unlimited minutes on your phone but just for a little while? It feels like you're here, almost, if we stay on the line. You can hang up if you hear me snoring." 

Akaashi smiled, just a little, because he hadn't wanted to hang up any more than Bokuto did. It was strange, how they could sometimes be on the same wavelength. 

"Sure. But I'm tired too, you can hang up if _I_ start snoring." 

"You don't snore, Akaashi." 

"What?" Akaashi asked.

"Training camps, I paid attention, you know. You don't snore. You sometimes make little noises though." He said the last sentence like a secret, and yawned, cutting off Akaashi's embarrassed reply. 

"Well," Akaashi said, after a few seconds and a deep breath, "If I start to make... noises, you can hang up, I don't want to wake you." 

"So you'll do it? We can stay on the phone?" He sounded so hopeful Akaashi had to smile.

"Yes. Goodnight, Bokuto-san, I'm tired now." 

"Oh! Goodnight, Akaashi." 

Akaashi readjusted his phone, plugging it in to charge and double checking his alarm before setting it on his pillow. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. It was hard to hear much, without the phone on speaker, but he heard the creaking of Bokuto's bed probably from him laying down. If he leaned over, resting his ear against the speaker, he could hear Bokuto breathing, like the phone was still by his face. 

He closed his eyes. Somehow the hours he'd spent staring at his computer, contemplating University exams and decisions best made in daylight felt like they hadn't even happened. The anxiety was still there of course, just below the surface. Somehow the conversation, boring and basic as far as conversations with Bokuto went, had made him feel a million times better, and he smiled as he rolled over onto his stomach. 

In the last seconds, before he drifted off, his ear was close enough to his phone that he swore he heard Bokuto still breathing: the long, even breaths of sleep.


End file.
